


Follow the Seasons

by Tabithian



Series: Trope Meme Fills [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU - Comicverse, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws, Red Robin (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, Multi, Not!Fic, Trope meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-09-23
Packaged: 2017-11-14 22:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fills for the Trope meme that aren't full fics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ride a Fast Horse

**Author's Note:**

> supercomicgirl asked for historical JayTim.

Ahaha, oh, man. If I felt confident enough to write it? It would take place in the wild west because _cowboys_. Jason would be a drifter and Tim's some spoiled rich kid from back east, fresh off the stage. (Or so Jason thinks! *[dramatic music cue](http://www.dramabutton.com/)*)

They meet when Tim's accosted by some drunk miners who don't know who Tim is yet. They're not violent or anything, just very drunk and a little belligerent, which is why Jason just watches, impressed in spite of himself when Tim handles them a lot more smoothly than he would have expected.

Tim ends up hiring Jason to be his guide - he's checking out the mines his employer purchased a while back because the miners refuse to go back in - saying it's haunted or cursed, something like that, Jason's not really listening.

They go check the mines out and realize hey, no. No ghosts, but look at that, someone trying to spook everyone away so they can buy the mine for cheap when Mr. Wayne sells it off when it becomes too much trouble to keep. And then there's a cave in at the mine caused by dynamite the bad guys toss at them and Tim and Jason grudgingly bond while trying to find a way out. (The drunk miners from the saloon dig them out, and it looks like they kind of adopt Tim because he's a nice kid, not his fault he works for that moron Wayne, you know?)

Turns out, Tim's not just some prissy rich kid, and Bruce Wayne sent him for a reason. There's lots of horseback riding and stopping to water their horses at streams and watering holes and Tim scooping water over his face, his head and Jason being, "Dammit, why the hell is he so good looking?" in his head because fucking really, Why?

Also gunfights and horseback chases through dusty scrub-land. Tim gets shot - “It's just a flesh wound, I'll be fine, go after them!” and Bruce and Dick show up after everything's over and Tim is on the mend .

Jason is all. “Oh.” when Dick rushes over and grabs Tim up in a hug because this guy's ridiculously good looking and that story Tim told him when they thought they were going to die in the mine cave in? The one Tim clipped articles out of the paper about? The one who was the reason he ended up working for Bruce? The guy Tim sounds absolutely head over heels in love with? Jason gets it now.

He tries to sneak away while Dick and Bruce catch up with Tim, but their butler – who has a butler this far out? - gives him the tiniest smile, and nods towards Tim who's looking at Jason.

“This is Jason,” Tim says, color in his cheeks as he avoids Dick's eyes, fingers playing with the blankets over his legs. “He's the reason we caught the people responsible for the accidents at the mine.”

Bruce gets this thoughtful look on his face, eyes going from Tim who's fidgeting – the whole time Jason's known him he's never done that – and Jason. Jason who is kind of scruffy looking because Tim was touch and go for a while there because the idiot let his gunshot wound get infected, and Tim's room was a hell of a lot more comfortable than camping out in the stable, so. (That's the only reason he was there the whole time Tim was out of course.) Dick looks at Tim and Jason and gets this smile on his face that makes Jason want to deck him, and he's really not going to think about why, exactly.

And then there are the usual miscommunications that ends in kissing and Tim and Jason riding off into the sunset bickering and being the most married cowboys to ever cowboy when Bruce appoints Tim in charge of the mine and the new branch of Wayne Enterprises out west.

*hands*


	2. Somewhere That's Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> loverwren asked for DamianTim, pretending to be married.

Oh, these two. Lol, um. I'm kind of stealing ideas from movies and television shows here. This takes place a few years down the road when Damian's older.

For some reason (not that Damian ever needed a reason before) he's been picking fights with Tim. The others are a little confused and worried because Tim and Damian are never going to be close the way Dick and Tim are, but. They've had their moments over the years, and this is out of character for both of them.

Bruce is sick of it, and there just happens to be something he wants the two of them to check out. A housing development on the edge of the city - beautiful, serene - a little too much so. The only catch? It's a development for married couples and the people behind the development are very serious about that - background checks are just the beginning.

"Bruce, really? We'll kill each other before the first day's over."

"Try the first _hour_ , Drake."

Tim gives Bruce a look, a _do you see my point?_ kind of look, but Bruce will not be swayed.

"Dick, say something!"

And because this is Dick, "Where are you two registered?"

"Oh my God, Dick. I won't forget this!"

Bruce and Barbara make the necessary arrangements - all inquiries about Alvin Draper and ________ Malone Junior will be forwarded to them to handle.

( _"Does he even have a first name?"_

_"Why am I not surprised you don't know this, Drake?")_

"Wait, I'm married to Li'l Matches? _Alvin Draper is married to Li'l Matches_?"

"That was my idea," Dick says, all smiles and traitorous backstabbing. And then he puts on a serious expression. "Even criminals fall in love, Tim. And doesn't everyone deserve second chance?"

Tim doesn't do anything - he doesn’t have to because Damian drops down on Dick from the ceiling and that? That's a good start in regards to payback. He walks away, intent on having another talk with Bruce and ignoring Dick's cries for help.

"Come on Timmy, lend me a hand here. You know Damian's a biter!"

A few days later Tim and Damian are in place. Bruce arranged a nice two-story, five bedroom, three bath house with a fenced in yard and a three car garage. It's. Really, really nice, and quiet and it kind of creeps Tim out a little. The whole development creeps him out because it's like something out a magazine, everything perfect and beautiful and not a thing out of place.

_("Isn't that a bit much for newlyweds?"_

_"Didn't you hear, baby bird? Alvin and and Li'l Matches are going to start a family, Dick already bought jailbird onesies for the little ones."_

_"Todd, I promise you they will never find the body.")_

Tim and Damian have to act like newlyweds in love when the neighborhood welcome wagon stops by, and when the busybodies poke their heads in, and just. Everyone really.

Eventually they settle into a pattern after the first couple of days, splitting the household chores and generally staying out of one another's way as much as possible. A few more days and they're starting to go a little cabin crazy, so they end up playing cards or watching movies. They share stories - mostly about how they got such and such a scar, or that time Dick was an idiot - there's an abundance of stories like that. 

Whenever they realize they're bonding they make awkward excuses and go to their separate bedrooms and wonder what the hell is going on.

(Dick, Jason, Steph, Babs and even Cass laughing at them when they do their daily check in isn't helping matters any, either.)

Damian mows the lawn because Bruce got them a beast of a lawnmower and it's the closest thing to being able to work on the Batmobile he'll get for a while. And because its summer and boiling hot he strips down to a tank top when he starts out and by the end he's shirtless.

He draws an audience, which he ignores but Tim, okay. Tim who is in the kitchen doing the dishes or cooking several meals ahead of time to freeze them - look, he has to do something, and this really does save time, okay, so don't judge. Tim looks out the window when a light reflection cuts into his line of visions and -

_When did Damian get so hot? Wait, what did - Oh, God, this case is driving me crazy._

From there it's a matter of little things like that. Damian catching Tim coming out of the bathroom with just a towel around his hips. Damian washing the car - an insipidly stupid Smart Car and don't think Damian doesn't know it was _you_ Grayson - t-shirt soaked through, hair hanging in his eyes making him look. Softer, more approachable.

"This is ridiculous," Damian says one night, throwing the mail - advertisements for eateries and department store catalogs - down on the table. "We've been here for three weeks and nothing is going on!"

"What about - "

"Hippies don’t count, Drake! You know that!"

Well, yes, but -

"Hippies! Incense and vegan casseroles! Not virgin sacrifices!"

...So of course it turns out the hippies are actually part of some seriously evil cult that lures people. People like Alvin Draper and Li'l Matches who are trying to make a new life for themselves there to be used as human sacrifices. Because of reasons.

"Well, at least you got the part about them not performing virgin sacrifices right," Tim says, peering over the edge of the ledge they're tied up on to look at the altar below them. "Just your ordinary run of the mill human sacrifices."

There are some decidedly unpleasant looking stains on it, a faded rusty color like it's been cleaned but they can never get all of it out.

 _...And that's not disturbing at all_.

Damian looks at Tim all narrow eyes and _growling_. 

"Damian?"

"No _virgin_ sacrifice?"

Tim stares, confused for a moment, and then, "Wait, are you serious? You're pissed that I'm not a virgin? Really? We're about to die, and _that's_ what makes you angry."

Damian growls again. "Was it Brown?" He bares his teeth. "The _clone_?"

Tim stares at Damian who looks like he should be frothing at the mouth. "Oh my god, Damian. We're not doing this right now, or, say ever," Tim says, finally freeing himself from his bonds.

Damian's doing the same next to him, albeit with more growling and swearing and -

"Ow, hey - "

\- And Damian grabbing him by the arm and pulling him in for a rough kiss.

"We _will_ be discussing the matter later, Drake," and then he's gone, slipping into the shadows leaving Tim staring after him.

"No we're not, Damian! Damian!"

...And then they defeat the bad guys and there's more angry kissing and eventually Dick and Jason and Steph being all, "God, it's about time you two," while Bruce stands there and looks quietly smug and -

"What did you do to the lawnmower?"

  
  


~*The End*~


	3. Mostly Stumbling Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lunatehnox asked for JayTim with telepathy or pretending to be married. I did both? /o\

This takes place in a mishmash of Pre-reboot DCU and DCnU because of reasons.

****

I was thinking there was some kind of incident in which Tim and Jason can – temporarily – read one another's minds? Maybe a magic spell or some kind of technological mishap and BAM, Tim suddenly knows that Jason has strong opinions about boots and Jason knows about Tim's organizational systems.

They hate it, of course, because it's an invasion of privacy and Jason wants the little bastard out of his head, pronto!

Raven helps them put up shields so they won't be crossing mental boundaries without meaning to and somewhere in there Jason gets a little less angry when it comes to Tim and Tim gets a little more perspective on Jason.

Bruce won't let Tim patrol when he's like this, and for good reason. And Jason can't patrol like this because his shields are great, fantastic, but it takes focus and that's hard for him to achieve in a safe enough environment like the manor. No way he can keep his shields up in the field.

Tim realizes Jason's less than comfortable in the manor, so he offers up an apartment he keeps for appearances sake. Upscale and horribly posh, as Roy would put it because Roy's a jackass who watches too much British television he's down with a bad cold.

Jason realizes it's not one Tim actually lives in - “Alfred would give me disappointed looks if I took you there.”

“Why? Afraid I might steal the silver?”

“No, I think he's more worried about the rats eating your face while you sleep."

“The hell?”

“Never mind.”

And then Roy contacts Jason when he's at Tim's and is all, “Wow. Nice place. Rich boyfriend?”

Jason just glares. “Didn't I tell you? I married my sugar daddy, I'll be expecting presents from you.” Because dammit Roy.

“Uh, Jason?”

“Shut it, Replacement,” Jason growls.

They try to stat out of one another's way, but every so often Tim will find himself humming one of Jason’s' favorite songs or Jason will be hit with the urge to file reports or see if the Titans need help or ask Oracle if she needs a hand.

There are quiet, squishy feelings moments too.

Watching a movie together because the strain of keeping their shields up all 24/7 is draining and movies are like white noise. Jason grumbles when Tim falls asleep on him partway through, but doesn't shove him on the floor because he knows Bruce had him running tests and hacking systems all night and Tim’s exhausted.

An occasional sparring match, in which there's no clear winner because the telepathic bond bleeds through their shields when they spar, and it's worse than if one of them was physically telegraphing their moves.

Jason catches Tim talking to the neighbor's cat that manages to get onto his balcony every night. Not out loud, or at least not all the time. He holds entire conversations with the damn thing in his head, and does voices for both parts, Jesus.

And then the telepathy goes away, but not completely. There's a low-level hum in the back of his their heads that only stops when they're a certain distance from each other. Not painful or annoying, but. It's there and Jason wants it gone, but they can't get rid of it due to whatever happened to give them telepathy in the first place.

Jason heads out to join up with Roy and Kory and Tim stays in Gotham and that's it for a while, the two of them exchanging information here and there.

And that leads into the second part, where Roy thinks Jason actually married his sugar daddy, not knowing Jason was being a jackass about it and said sugar daddy was Tim.

********

********

It starts out as a drunken confession with Roy and Kory and a whole bevy of bad ideas. Talking about lost loves and loves they wish would stay lost.

“Sure, yeah,” Jason says at one point, Roy all but hanging off him, Kory elegant and beautiful and untouchable on the stool next to him. “I'm married. But my sugar daddy has work and I've got you guys.” He shrugs, or thinks he does. It's that part of the night already.

And Roy, the fucker, he laughs and salutes him with his glass before passing out. Kory raises an eyebrow. “You know he thought you were serious.”

Of course he did, because he's drunk and Roy's an idiot and alcohol is the best and worst thing in the world sometimes.

“Well I'm not,” Jason slurs, and then passes out like the champ he is.

********

Roy was drunk, but some things stick in the brain no matter what, and the next time they're on a mission, bad guys shooting at them and something exploding not too far off -

Kory, probably, razing the warehouse to the ground when she realized they weren't there. She'll find them, he has no doubt about that, what with the shooting and yelling and occasional dying going on.

“Who do I call?”

Jason, goddammit, is bleeding. He's bleeding and there's at least one bullet in him and he is going to have words with their informant when they get out of this. If they get out of this. _When_ they get out of this.

“What?” Jason's not a hundred percent, he knows it. Roy knows it.

Roy leans over him, face covered in soot and god knows what else from the fire and dried blood and a big damn bruise from a bruiser Jason got even with the first chance he got. “Your sugar daddy,” he says, stupid bastard. “Who do I call about what to do with your body?”

“Fuck you, Harper,” Jason growls, “I'm not dying.”

Roy pats him on the shoulder, teeth flashing in a sharp smile, all predator. “Good boy, Jaybird, now hold on while I save your sorry ass.”

He'd flip the smug bastard off for that, but that would take to much effort and really, he's fine where he is. Let Harper pick up some of the slack for a change.

********

It kind of grows from there, little things here and there because Jason's an idiot and Roy's convinced Jason actually is married with a sugar daddy stashed somewhere. He makes it a game, trying to figure out who it could be. The kind of game that's going to end with a bullet in Roy's ass if he doesn't fucking quit it.

“Is it - “ Roy stops, holds his hands up on either side of his head, index fingers extended like a pair of pointy fucking ears, replacing the smirk on his face for a dark scowl, and _growls_.

Roy waggles his eyebrows when Jason stares at him in shock and no little horror.

“Jesus fuck, no!” Jason yells, and tries to crush Roy's kneecap with his boot.

They're supposed to be sparring, but Roy thinks it's open season on pissing Jason off and the worst part is, it's working.

Roy ducks behind Kory, laughing like a moron.

Kory, for her part, smiles and raises an eyebrow at him, like she's saying,  _do you see what I mean?_ Because Roy won't let up on this, on the sugar daddy Jason made up while he was three sheets to the wind.

“I'm going to kill you,” Jason promises, cracking his knuckles.

They’re supposed to be sparring, and Jason's decided to let Harper know that letting your own training slide because your teammate was out due to medical reasons? Is a fucking terrible idea when that teammate has Bat training.

********

He's not sure what he must have done to deserve this, but. The buzz in the back of his head is getting really fucking annoying, which it only does when Tim's close by.

“The fuck are you doing here?” he asks, sliding his arm around Tim, fingers skimming his ribs. The buzz goes quiet, a soft hum now, and he feels tension bleeding out of Tim. His hand settles at the small of his back, and a gentle nudge gets him moving towards a small alcove where they'll have a little more privacy.

Tim, looks at him, all cool disdain and rich boy snobbery. “Intel,” he says, sliver of a smile. “And you?”

They're surrounded by the kind of people who'd make Luthor feel right at home Wolves dressed in Armani, and Dolce & Gabana and more designer names that Jason cares to know.

Tim's holding a champagne flute in his hand and Jason. Jason is in his space, crowding him up against the alcove wall because they don't know who's watching. “The same.”

Replacement cocks his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “Your team?”

“Around,” Jason says. Roy's in a van a few streets over with Kory for a fast extraction if it comes to that. He's heard that Tim's been working with the Titans more now, working in Gotham less and less as time goes by. “Yours?”

The expression on Tim's face flickers for the barest moment. “...Around.”

“Tim - “

“They don't know I'm here,” Tim mutters, eyes darting away from Jason's.

“What, you don't fucking trust them?” Jason asks, a laugh caught in his throat because no, the kid's a Bat. Of course he wouldn't trust them.

“That's not it,” Tim hisses, leaning towards Jason and looking angrier than he's seen him in a while. “It's. This isn't Titan business, Jason.”

“Really.”

Tim huffs, irritated, and turns his head away. “How's your shoulder?

“What?”

“Your shoulder,” Tim says, looking at Jason like he's an idiot. “Is it okay?”

“It's fine.”

Something shifts in Tim’s expression at that. “Good. Roy said something about bad intel being to blame?”

Jason's eyes narrow. He has these. Fragments of memories of the days right after that clusterfuck of a mission, voices and blurry faces. Roy and Kory and -

“You were there.”

Tim looks uncomfortable. “Uh. Yes.”

Why?

Before Jason can ask, though, the potted plants screening them from view of the larger room rustle.

“Ah, Detective. I wasn't expecting to see you here. What a pleasant surprise.”

Tim pulls himself up to his full height, the veneer of the haughty rich sliding back into place like armor. “Ra's, I should have known you'd be here.”

Oh, goddammit. Jason looks between Tim and Ra's, hairs at the back of his neck lifting at the way Ra's looks at Tim. It's. Proprietary, and that's just all kinds of fucking creepy. Bruce is bad, sure, but he's never been like this.

“And you,” Ra's purrs, turning his attention to Jason. “Yet another pleasant surprise. I do hope my people didn't play too roughly with you.”

“Ra's,” Tim says, low, warning.

“It's been a blast, really,” Jason says, grabbing Tim's wrist and dragging him with him. “But we've got to be going. Great party, love the decorations. Everything's great. Great, great, great.”

Jason shoves Tim ahead of him, making sure not to turn his back on Ra's because he trusts the bastard even less than anyone else here, and that's saying something.

“Jason - “

“Shut it, baby bird, we're getting out of here.” Jason growls, baring his teeth at Ra's who watches them leave with a faint smile of amusement on his face.

“We can't just – the information you wanted!” Tim hisses, digging his heels in when they hit the foyer. “Jason!”

“No,” Jason snaps, glaring at him. “We can get it another way.” He blinks. “Unless you want to stay and chat with Ra's?”

Tim grimaces. “We. No.”

“All right then,” Jason says, and gestures at the door. “After you.”

That gets hims a major bitch-face, but it also gets Tim moving.

********

“The fuck was that?” Jason asks when they're back at the safe house. “You're buddy buddy with Damian's grandfather all of a sudden?”

Tim paces the small confines of the room Jason claimed as his own. He stops and looks at Jason. “It's not all of a sudden, and. It's complicated.”

As if anything isn't, when it comes to their fucked up little family. “So use small words.”

Tim snorts. “It's a long story.”

“You have somewhere better to be?”

“No, but. It's not important,” Tim says, and continues pacing. “We'll have to come up with another way to get the intel you wanted, especially since Ra's knows I'm here now.”

Speaking of.

“Why are you helping us?” Jason asks. It's pretty fucking clear from the way Tim's talking that he doesn't want the information for himself, that he's after it for _Jason_.

Tim just looks at him,. Like Jason's so incredibly dense. “You almost died because you had bad intel, Jason.” He waves towards the other room where Roy, at least, is probably trying to listen in on them. “Your _team_ almost died. Is it so hard to believe someone just wants to help?”

This is probably where Jason's supposed to yell a denial, or an acceptance, but. He just looks at Tim. Tim who looks like he's lost weight since the last time Jason saw him. He looks worn out, fucking well exhausted. Like he's barely on his feet, and that through sheer force of will.

“What about you?” Jason has to ask, because he remembers. Tim's not working with the rest of the family as much. Is pretty much on his own most of the time because he sure as hell isn't roosting with the Titans. No way they'd let him run himself this ragged.

Tim laughs, sharp, bitter. “What about me?”

And. Jason remembers Tim's ridiculous apartment that he never stayed in unless he had to. Remembers Tim poking him awake when the nightmares would start and challenging him to stupid X-box games. (“The Titans,” he'd said, like that was a real explanation when Jason looked askance at him.)

A dozen other little things and. All of them more than what anyone else had done for him in a really long time.

“You're a fucking moron.”

Tim shrugs, like it's not the first time he's heard that from someone, and Jason believes it because the kid's a goddamn moron. A moron that has fucking Ra's al Ghul looking at him like he'd been a great asset to have, and.

If Bruce doesn't know about that yet, he's fucking well going to before this is over  because Jason doesn't like the implications one bit.

Tim's still looking at him, and Jason crosses the space between them and grabs Tim into one of the most awkward hugs Jason's ever been part of, but it's heartfelt and that has to count for something, right?

...And then they kiss.

.the end.

-Bonus after the credits scene-

“So when's your anniversary?”

“Shut _up_ , Harper.”


	4. One Step Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soot-em-up asked for Jason/Roy, accidental-baby-acquisition.

Lol, oh, man, I Batlove you for this prompt. I'm thinking this is in the mishmash of Pre-Reboot and DCnU again because that's a happy place for me? Lian's about three or four in this because of reasons.  
  


********

  
Jason's the one to find the baby when he's off being Mr. Punch People in the Face a Lot and is completely baffled because _baby_. Like. He knows the basics of baby care thanks to Roy and tiny baby Lian and – oh, hey.   
  
Roy.   
  
He can dump the baby on Roy until they find out more about it. Like where it came from and who it belongs to, and he has to see Roy right the hell now because the baby's got serious lung capacity and _ow_ , his ears.

  
****

Jason's not really sure how it happens, just. One minute he's busting heads, putting the fear of Red Hood into some thugs and the next -   
  
Baby.  
  
“Thanks, but I already have one,” Roy says when Jason shows up at his place, Lian asleep in his arms.   
  
“Oh, fucking hilarious, Harper. What do I do with it?”   
  
Roy just looks at him, like maybe Jason's even more of an idiot than he thought. “Well, to start with, find out if the baby's a boy or girl? And stop calling the baby an 'it'.”  
  
“It's a boy, Harper,” Jason growls because he's not that inept.   
  
“Jaybird.”  
  
“Trachea, Harper.”  
  
Roy shakes his head and puts Lian in her crib. When he comes back out Jason's holding the baby in front of him awkwardly and there's a distinct...odor.  
  
“Looks like someone's going to learn how to change a diaper, “Roy says with an obnoxious level of cheerfulness.  
  
“I hate everything,” Jason says, but does surprisingly well when Roy talks him through changing a diaper. Until the brat pees on him with startling accuracy.  
  
“Not bad for your first time,” Roy says, a smirk playing on his lips. “Though you might want to watch out for the peeing thing. Babies do that sometimes.”  
  
Jason glares at Roy because hey, thanks for the tip, asshole. “You have any clean shirts around here?”  
  
Roy makes a sweeping gesture at the bedroom. “Be my guest,” he says, taking the baby from Jason.   
  
Jason glares, even though he knows that it never really had any effect on Roy, and grabs a shirt out of Roy's dresser. He cleans up in the bathroom as much as he can. When he goes back out to the living room Roy's on the couch with the brat asleep on his chest.  
  
“What do you think about Wally for a name?” Roy asks, this strange look on his face Jason's not sure what to do with.  
  
“What?”  
  
Roy shrugs, avoiding Jason's eyes, playing with the little shock of red hair on the baby's head. “I don't know, it just. He looks like a Wally?”   
  
But that's not it, or it's not all of it, and Jason can tell even Roy doesn't get it, but.  
  
“Like it matters to me what you call it,” he says, and goes to root around in Roy's refrigerator for a beer.

  
****  
And then there are baby raising shenanigans while Jason sets Tim on trying to find everything out about the baby he can.

****

  
“Jason - “  
  
“You're the only one I know who won't be a pain in my ass about this – okay, you're the only I know who won't tell Bruce if I ask you not to. Which I am, by the way. Asking you not to tell him,” Jason says.  
  
He's watching Roy take the plane in for a landing, this morning's payload being pureed peas and carrots. Not the prettiest combination, but Roy assures him there's worse, which. How?  
  
Wally's laughing and bouncing around in the high chair and Jesus, what the fuck is Jason's life right now? He's pretty sure the kid's wearing more food than he's eaten, but Roy seems to think progress is being made.   
  
The hell of it is that Roy looks pretty happy about the state of things in baby-land, even though he's got baby food on his clothes, his face, his hair – how the hell did _that_ happen?   
  
“Jason? Are you still there?”  
  
Jason snaps back to the conversation, annoyed by the smile he can hear in Tim's voice. “Just. Find out where he came from before he drives me crazy.”  
  
“Sure,” Tim says, still way too fucking amused. “I'll get back to you when I find something.”  
  
“Yeah, sounds good,” Jason says, feeling the corners of his mouth turn up when Lian comes up to him on wobbly legs, one of her stuffed animals clutched to her chest. She stops a little bit away from him and holds it up to him, one well-chewed ear flopping over into its face. “Gotta go, baby bird.”

  
****

Tim calls back a few days later without much in the way of news, and comic book logic makes an appearance  
  
****

  
It's late, prime Bat time, so of course that's when Tim calls.   
  
Roy's sleeping in his bedroom, Lian curled up against his side because Roy's the kind of parent who can't tell their kid no when it comes to sleeping arrangements.  
  
“Nothing's shown up yet, sorry.”  
  
Jason sighs, looking down at Wally, deep asleep on his shoulder, little hands gripping Jason's shirt. “Anything on the idiots I found him with?”  
  
Because that bothers Jason. A bunch of thugs with a small baby and none of them its parent. It's a miracle Wally was in as good health as he was when Jason stumbled on him.  
  
“According to them,” Tim says, “they just found him. When I talked to them they said they couldn't just leave him in the middle of the street.”  
  
Jason snorts. “So what, they're just Good Samaritans?” No points for knowing why they didn't take Wally to the police.  
  
“Pretty much,” Tim agrees. “There haven't been any matches for a missing baby matching Wally's description.”  
  
Another thing that worries Jason. “Well it's not like he appeared out of fucking thin air, Tim.”  
  
There's a long pause, the kind that has Jason regretting his life choices. “No,” Jason says. “Tim, _no_.”  
  
“Stranger things have happened,” Tim says mildly. And then a little hesitantly, “You, for example.”  
  
Jason closes his eyes briefly, because _fuck_. Wally makes a snuffling noise, and Jason looks down at him. This tiny baby that may have just appeared, _poof_ , like magic or a really terrible joke because someone fucked things up somewhere along the line, and now -   
  
“Jason?”  
  
“He's not like me.” Not a mistake, a hiccup in the works.  
  
Tim doesn't say anything because if nothing else, the little shit's smart.   
  
“Thanks, baby bird,” Jason says, and disconnects.

  
****  
  
And then Jason – it's not brooding. That's a Bat thing, but. He's not a fucking ray of sunshine, either, there for a while.  
  
****

  
“Color me surprised,” Roy says, looking down at Jason who is sprawled over his couch. “Tim said you'd be like this.”  
  
Fucking _Tim_.  
  
“Fuck off, Harper,” Jason mumbles, rolling over so he won't have to see Roy's stupid face this early in the morning.   
  
Jason's. He's been more of a mess than usual after Tim's call. Actively looking for trouble and dragging back to Roy's apartment a few hours before sunrise looking and feeling like shit. Roy's let it slide for a few days now, but apparently he's hit his limit.  
  
He knows Roy and Kory had taken turns keeping an eye on him, making sure he didn't get in over his head. Jason had caught glimpses of them from the corner of his eye, but if they weren't going to mention it neither was he.  
  
“Lian, Uncle Jason wants to play!” Roy calls.  
  
Jason starts to sit up at that, tangled up in the blanket Roy must have put over him in the night,  eyes widening when he hears the pitter patter of a seriously excited toddler. For such a little kid, Lian makes a hell of an impact when she jumps and lands on Jason. He grunts in surprise, arms going out from under him and ends up with his face mashed into the couch cushions.  
  
“That's my girl,” Roy says, all proud papa as Lian pats the back of Jason's head gently, fondly. She's burbling something about playing with her stuffed animals, voice bright with happiness and Jesus, talk about playing dirty.

  
****  
  
More baby raising shenanigans!  
  
****  
  


Jason watches Roy who's murmuring to a fussing Wally held carefully in his arms, bouncing him gently every fifth step as he makes a slow circuit of the living room. Lian's curled up in his lap, head heavy against his chest, little kid snores coming from her.  
  
“How did you do it?” Jason asks because this is exhausting, and he has Roy and Kory helping him. Roy raised Lian for the first few years more or less on his own.   
  
Roy raises an eyebrow at him, corner of his curving upwards. “I found a way for her,” he says, eyes going to Lian.   
  
And that.   
  
“You should get a job with Hallmark, Harper.”  
  
Roy snorts, and Jason knows if he wasn't holding Wally he'd be flipping Jason off.

  
****

The next time Jason talks to Tim, he gets the news he was expecting. No hits on a missing baby that matches Wally's description, nothing. Like he really did appear out of thin air.  
  
****

  
The thing is, Jason kind of expected this. The moment he saw Wally in the grubby little makeshift crib, face red with his crying, little fists beating the air, he knew.  
  
“Smile, Lian!”   
  
Jason blinks at the flash, and scowls reflexively at Roy who grins at him from behind the digital camera. Lian's resting her chin on the top of Jason's head, arms around his neck, feet digging into Jason's kidneys. He's holding Wally, who's wearing the bright red onesie Dick bought when he and Tim came by for a visit because of course he'd pry into Jason's business, into Roy's.  
  
Dick had gotten the same look on his face when he actually saw Wally, the one Jason recognized from the times he'd seen it on Roy's and Kory's faces.   
  
Like there was something indefinably off here, something that had to do with Wally, and that. It made Jason twitchy. Made him want to grab Wally and make a break for it, leave Roy's tiny apartment and disappear, but that wouldn't be fair to Roy and Lian, to Kory.   
  
Every so often it hits Jason like that too. That feeling of something not quite lining up when he looks at Wally. For some reason it's not as strong with him as it is with Roy and Kory and Dick, and he doesn't know what that means.  
  
Lian laughs, bright and happy, and slides down Jason's back onto the couch. She leans around him to look at Wally, eyes wide because he fascinates her. This tiny thing that can't talk. That just makes these little noises and cries when it's hungry, or needs its diaper changed, or when its tired and doesn't know what else to do but cry.  
  
“We should probably start a family album, yeah?” Roy says, sitting on the crappy little coffee table to show Jason the picture.   
  
It's not the first picture because once Tim sent the camera – Jesus, what is it with that kid? - Roy had taken pictures every chance he could. Like he's trying to save up good memories when he'll need them, and that.  
  
“Bite me, Harper.”

  
****  
  
Things go on like that for a while. Jason and Roy raising Wally and Lian with Kory's help, until one day Jason is just. What the hell happened here?  
  
****

  
“What the hell happened here?” Jason asks.  
  
They're standing in front of a pleasant little one story house, a moving truck behind them and, no, seriously. What the hell happened?  
  
“I knew you weren't paying attention,” Roy says, shoving a box with 'kitchen' written on it in black marker into his arms. “You know the apartment was too small for all of us.”  
  
Lian walks by with a smaller box decorated in stickers and 'Lian's room' in alternating shades of red, green, black, purple, and orange, a huge smile on her face.   
  
“No, I get this,” Jason says, indicating the new house – a _house_ \- with a jerk of his chin. “That's not what I was talking about.”  
  
Kory swoops down on a little patch of brightly colored flowers, Wally laughing and waving his arms in delight as she does a little barrel roll and takes off again.   
  
That's not what he was talking about either.   
  
What he's talking about is this. A lease with Roy's name right next to his, and the option to buy if they want after a year, and Jesus Christ. What the hell happened?  
  
“Uncle Jason's kind of slow, isn't he?” Roy asks Lian, passing by the opposite way with her favorite stuffed animal in her arms, a packing peanut stubbornly clinging to its tail.  
  
Lian nods, giving Jason a bright smile. “'sokay, Jaybird,” she says, because Roy's an ass, “We love you anyway.”  
  
What.  
  
Roy laughs at him, and pushes him toward their new house. “You'll figure it out eventually.”

  
****  
  
A few months later Tim contacts Jason.  
  
****  
  
  
“So,” Tim starts. “How do you feel about play dates?”  
  
“What?” Jason can hear noises in the background on Tim's end, what sounds like Dick's voice.  
  
Tim looks like, well, shit. Bags under his eyes and a pinched set to his mouth. “Looks like Wally's not the only mystery baby.”  
  
“What the hell are you talking about?”  
  
Tim moves the camera to focus on Dick who's cradling a baby with a mop of black hair on its head.   
  
“He wants Donna and Wally to meet.”  
  



	5. It Rains and it Pours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yozoraarashi asked for DickTim, telepathy.

Okay, so for this one. Hmm. I picture there being something with the Teen Titans where Dick's along for the ride for whatever reason (he says he was just in the neighborhood, but really, Tim knows he was there to check up on him). They end up having to fight a psychic and Dick and Tim both get whammied. (Technical term, really.)

********

After the fight everyone checks out okay - they're especially careful with Dick and Tim because of the mind whammy, but. Everything comes up good. No abnormal readings, although Tim is a little underweight and there are the usual signs of him overworking himself again.

Dick looks at him because that's why he came to check up on Tim, and Tim just looks back because he's an adult, Dick. He can take care of himself.

Which means that when Tim goes back to Gotham Dick is right there with him. _Right there_.

“Dick - “

“We haven't been spending much time together lately, so. Why don't we hang out?”

Tim can give Dick any number of reasons why they haven't been spending a lot of time together lately, an entire list, but.

Tim is tired and a little – lot – worn down because he has been working too hard. Between patrolling in Gotham and working with the Titans in and working at WE, he's been stretched thin lately, and even he recognizes it. More than that, he misses Dick. Misses spending time with him because Tim's always had a thing for him, always.

“Hang out.”

“Yes?” Dick says, looking like a hopeful puppy.

“...Fine.”

They don't notice anything's different for the first day or so. But Dick will hand Tim something he needs before Tim asks for it and vice versa.

A little later on Tim looks at Dick and says, “Dick, Damian would kill you if you did that,” when they're watching a movie that involves cuddle attacks or whatnot, and Dick is just :((((((((((((

They really don't think anything of it because they know one another so well it's probably just  a subconscious thing on their part, or picking up on one another's body language. They've done things like this in the past.

And then one day Dick wakes up feeling like crap and Tim, who is coming down with something after pushing himself so hard starts to get suspicious. “You don't have a temperature, Dick.”

And Dick, who's wrapped up in a blanket looks at Tim. “I feel awful, how can that be?”

Tim doesn't know, but when he says they should get Dick checked out he gets all mulish and clings to the blanket he's wrapped up in. “I'm fine, Tim.”

“You just said you feel awful.”

“I got better?”

Tim's not feeling all that great either, and all he wants to do is curl up and take a nap until he feels better and Dick is being a pain.

“Dick.”

“Tim.”

“What if you have the plague?”

“Really? That's the best you can do?”

“Dick, I've seen the way you live. Don't tell me it's not a possibility.”

There's no way Dick can let Tim get away with something like that, so he whaps Tim over the head with his pillow. When Tim tries to get it away from him Dick grabs him around the waist and pulls him onto the bed throwing the blankets over both of them like a cozy little cave.

“Mature, Dick,” Tim grumbles, trying to squirm free.

Dick's not having that, though, just wriggles around until he has Tim's arms and legs trapped, face  up against Tim's neck. “Give up, Timmy. Now is the time for napping.”

Tim tries to get loose, but he feels like crap and Dick's nice and warm and the bed is comfortable and -

“This doesn't mean you won,” he grumbles, settling back against Dick.

Dick cautiously unwinds one arm – Tim could be faking – and pats his head. “Of course not, Tim. Of course not.”

****

Later that night Dick wakes up because of nightmares, but they're not his nightmares. He sits up, breathing hard, heart racing a mile a minute and just stares at Tim who looks back, worried and confused and -

“Tim,” Dick's voice is shaky because he had no idea how bad Tim's nightmares were, and only a vague idea of what they could be about. (Steph, Tim's dad, Kon, Bart, the others they've lost. The things he's gone through, God, the list is endless, but. He didn't know so many would be about _him_.)

“Dick?”

And there's Tim, reaching out for him, trying to reassure him, cheeks flushed with fever – Oh, crap.

“I think something's wrong,” Dick says, laying a hand on Tim's forehead, which is burning up. “Really, really wrong.”

****

They go to Raven because of reasons, and she determines that there's a telepathic bond between them and apologizes for not sensing it earlier.

“But why is it getting stronger?” Dick asks, looking at Tim who's slumped against him.

They'd given him something for his cold, plus a little extra to help him get the rest he wouldn't get on his own, and Dick only feels a little guilty for that. Now that he's paying attention he can feel how exhausted Tim is, was, even before he got sick. (He'd thought it was just his own aches and bruises he was feeling, not Tim's. And wonders if Tim's been feeling Dick's injuries.)

Raven's not sure, but does tell them that the bond should fade given time.

“How much time?” Tim asks, groggy, but not groggy enough not to glare at Dick for drugging him.

Raven pretends not to see, but there's an amused look in her eyes. “That I can't be sure of.”

And. Great.

****

“Bruce won't let us patrol like this,” Tim points out when they're back in Gotham. (He slept all the way home.)

There wasn't much point in staying at the Tower, and Tim insisted that he had paperwork that needed to be done.

“He wouldn't let you patrol with your cold, either,” Dick counters, eyebrow raised, and. Point.

“So now what?”

They both know how to shield their minds – a bit of a necessity – but this. The shields aren't exactly working this way. They're more screens, filtering the worst of the noise out, but not completely. And not at all when they're sleeping.

“Now,” Dick says, steering Tim toward the bedroom. “You get some rest – don't look at me like that. You're still sick, I can feel it.”

Tim winces because -

“Don't feel guilty about that, either. You're not the one who had the bright idea to go up against the psychic.”

“Well it's not like we could let him run amok, Dick.”

And that. Dick grins because really, who talks like that? Tim, apparently.

“Shut up,” Tim mutters, face coloring with something that isn't sickness. “What are you going to be doing while I rest?”

Dick makes a face. “Telling Bruce.”

Tim can't help the laugh. “Yeah, sleep doesn't sound so bad compared to that.”

Dick can't let that slide either, so he shoves Tim onto the bed and hits him over the head with one of the pillows until he cries uncle, laughing so hard he can barely get the words out.

“Get some sleep, Timmy,” Dick says, fingers rubbing Tim's scalp in the hopes it will lull him to sleep.

********

Bruce isn't happy with things, but there's not much to be done in this situation. He wants them to come to the manor, but Dick tells him that's probably not a good idea.

“Why?”

Dick rubs the back of his neck. “I don't think Tim's going to want Damian to see him like this.”

The corners of Bruce's mouth turn down even further – is that even possible? - and then he says, “I will expect the two of you to check in at regular intervals.”

Dick smiles at that because Bruce is worried and unhappy with all of this – he's not the only one – and doesn't know what to do to help. And.

“We will,” he promises, and because Bruce obviously needs one, gives him a hug and says, “Everything will be okay, Bruce. Trust me.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow because he knows how trusting Dick goes sometimes, but it does make him feel better that Dick and Tim and looking out for each another in this.

****

The bond never gets to the point where they can read one another's minds, but they're so close as it is that they might as well be able to. They can sense how the other's feeling – happy, sad, angry - and they know if one of them is sick the other feels it, and learn when Tim stubs his toe because he's tired and achey and _that's not where shoes go, Dick_ , that pain transfers over too.

While Tim's recovering from his cold Dick insists on movies – terrible, terrible movies so bad that a B movie would be a vast improvement. When Tim doesn't feel well enough for movies – it hurts his eyes and he has a headache, Dick tells hims stories.

He lies down with Tim pressed against him, eyes closed to stave off the worst of nausea. Some of the stories are made up nonsense, some are highly fictionalized accounts of their exploits over the years, and some are stories he memorized.

“ _The Cat in the Hat_ , Dick, really?”

“Lian loves it, so hush. I'm telling a story here, Tim,” Dick replies.

After a few days Tim gets better. He's still sniffly and stuffed up, but the worst of the cold is over. Dick fusses over him because he knows exactly how bad Tim feels. Tim tries to do the same for him.

“Dick - “

“I'm not the one who's sick here, Tim.”

“No, you just think you're sick,” Tim counters.

There's a bit of a stare down, Dick standing by the bed with his hands on his hips and Tim covered in  blankets.

“Tim.”

“Dick, don't make be bring Alfred into this.”

And Dick gets this look on his face like he can't believe Tim would drag Alfred into this, which is when Tim attacks, pillow to the face, hand twisting in Dick's shirt and Dick goes down in a tangle of limbs.

“Hey! What - “

Tim doesn't say anything because Dick's hard to pin down, but he's slower thanks to the bond and Tim's cold and eventually Tim gets the better of him. He ends up straddling Dick's chest, hands on his shoulders holding him down.

Both of them are breathing hard, a little lightheaded from the exertion.

“Tim,” Dick manages, strained. “You - “

And Tim. Tim knows what he's going to say, that Tim needs to sleep, get some rest and Dick isn't really sick. It's just in his head (God, Dick, that isn't funny).

Not quite able to meet Dick's eyes, he says, like it's costing him everything to get the words out, “I sleep better when you're there.” 

Several moments go by, neither one of them saying anything, and then Dick bucks under Tim, and twists, knocking Tim off of him.

“Dick!” Tim tries to scramble away because Dick obvious doesn't want to be there -

But Dick's not leaving, he just manhandles Tim until he's in a comfortable position, and then, “Why am I the little spoon?”

“Shh, Tim, sleep now,” Dick says, but there's an undeniable smile in his voice.

****

The telepathic bond starts to fade over the next few days and Tim and Dick get weirdly twitchy. Dick because now he knows how good Tim is at hiding injuries or illness, and how bad he gets when he overworks himself and he doesn't like that he can't just _know_.

Tim because they've had one another's nightmares and Tim's worried Dick knows too much now, just how afraid Tim is to lose him and what that means.

When the bond is completely gone, Bruce lets them patrol again and Tim stays around Gotham. For a week or so, and then he finds a reason to go out of town and just sort of “forgets” to come back.

And then one night Dick gets this awful feeling, he knows something happened to Tim, so he takes the Batplane and -

“He's with the Titans,” Babs tells him, worry carefully hidden. “No reports of serious injuries.”

“Thanks, Babs.”

When he gets to the Tower Kon and the others direct him to Tim's room, where Tim is waiting. He's stripped down to a t-shirt and boxers, which just make the bruises and cuts stand out more.

“It's just a sprain,” Tim says, indicating his wrist, eyes skipping away from Dick's when he tries to make eye contact. “...And some minor cuts and bruises.”

Dick just looks at him, at Tim who looks like he's been pushing himself too hard again. Whatever ground he'd gained while sidelined already lost, and Dick wonders how he stopped seeing this. _When_ he stopped seeing this.

“Tim - “

“I'm fine,” Tim lies.

Dick knows it's a lie because he knows Tim, and a couple of weeks of practically being inside his head taught him more of how Tim hides. (In plain sight, always ready to deflect because who bothers to look these days?)

“No you're not,” Dick says, and he hates that it has to be this way, that he approaches Tim like a spooked animal. “I'm sorry for that, Tim.”

Tim lifts his head, and the look in his eyes, “I'm sorry too,” he says, and the worst part is he means it.

Dick wants to hug him, but he doesn't know to touch without hurting Tim. Tim sees that of course, and he smiles, faint. “I really am fine,” he points to his wrist again. “This is the worst of it.”

And that. Dick sighs, and sits next to Tim, not quite touching, but close enough that they could be, if Tim wanted them to. Tim's choice.

A few minutes go by in silence, one that goes from feeling heavy with guilt and misery into something approaching comfortable.  
  
“It wasn't all you, Dick,” Tim says. “I could have done things differently too,” crooked smile, “I could have handled things better.”  
  
Tim reaches out to Dick, fingers tangling with his and this. It's the start of something new, and more than Dick expected to get after he messed things up so spectacularly.  
  
“I'll do better this time. _We'll_ do better this time,” Dick says, meaning it because this, Tim, is worth it.  
  



	6. The Long Way Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked for Dick/Tim, body swap

I'm not sure if the other Bats knows about the thing between Ra's and Tim, so. Yes. For this one I think Tim's out trying to foil one of Ra's' ~dastardly plots and Dick's off somewhere facing off with a magic user? And then Dick gets hit with a spell – something about other people's shoes and walking in them?

And all of a sudden it's not Tim surrounded by Ra's' ninja while he banters with Tim, it's Dick. And Dick is rightfully confused, because he's shorter and smaller and the Nightwing suit doesn't have a cowl or a cape -  
  
“Oh, so _that's_ what she meant,” he says to himself. (Because of course it was a she and of course Dick was flirting with her and of course this would happen.)  
  
Ra's goes from amused by Tim to narrowed eyes and, “You are not the Detective.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Ra's gets this calculating look on his face, and signals for his ninja to capture Dick. And they do, even though he puts up a good fight because this isn't his body and why is Tim fighting Ra's and his ninja on what feels like broken ribs and days without sleep? Why is Tim fighting Ra's and his ninja on his own? Why is Tim fighting Ra's and his ninja at all?  
  
“That, it would seem,” Ra's says, as the ninja take  him off to get his injuries looked at - “Would be a most excellent question to ask the Detective.” Because Dick may have said that last part out loud, he's a little distracted, cut him some slack.  
  
When Dick realizes what's going on, Ra's gives him a look that's disturbingly like the ones Alfred will give him once in a while. “I treat my guests with courtesy,” Ra's says.  
  
“...Your guests.”  
  
Ra's gets this odd little smile on his face. “You should discuss the matter with the Detective when he arrives to collect you.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Ra's doesn't know it's Dick, not yet, but he does know Tim. “Do you really think he would leave you here,” an amused smile, almost fond, and what does that even _mean_? “'In my clutches' once he realizes what's happened?”  
  
Dick just stares at him because one, he heard those air quotes, and two, no. No Tim would not. “What do you want with him?”  
  
Ra's just smiles. “What do I ever want with the Detective?” And then leaves while the medical personnel swarm over Dick and Dick really wants to know what the hell Tim did to get Ra's so interested in him.  
  
********  
  
MEANWHILE  
  
********  
  
Tim is wherever Dick was and is just like, “What just happened?” Because Ra's' ninja are nowhere to be see, but there's a woman watching him with avid interest and this does _not_ look Ra's stronghold. Tim's taller, his balance is off, and  he can feel the wind in his hair. When he looks he sees blue finger stripes, and dammit Dick, what did you do _now_?  
  
“Oh,” the woman says, like every villain ever, “this _will_ be interesting.”  
  
Before Tim can ask what that means, she disappears in a puff of smoke and Tim stands there for a moment before he realizes if he's in Dick's body, Dick must be in his. And considering what he was doing moments before -  
  
Tim doesn't bother looking for the magic user because Ra's has Dick, and that's not good, so many levels of not good. He doesn't have time to explain to Bruce or the others – so it's really convenient that they're out on patrol as he takes the Batplane.  
  
On the way he calls Kon who is, “Nightwing?”  
  
And Tim gives him this pained little smile -  
  
“ _Tim_?”  
  
Tim has to laugh at that, that Kon knows it's him from that alone. “I need a favor.”  
  
He can tell Kon has questions, so many questions, but, “Lay it on me.”  
  
And then they go to where Ra's is holding Dick.  
  
“I need you to stay out here,” Tim says.  
  
“Tim - “  
  
“Backup in case things go bad.”  
  
Kon can tell there's more to it, but Tim usually knows what he's doing. “Don't get killed.”  
  
Tim's, “I'll try not to,” isn't as reassuring as he thinks it is? But it's horrifyingly honest.  
  
Tim doesn't bother to sneak in because Ra's is obviously expecting him. He ignores the ninja that are watching him from the ~shadows, various assassins who eye him curiously.  
  
“Where is he, Ra's?”  
  
Ra's smiles. “This _is_ interesting, isn't it, Detective.”  
  
“I don't have time for this.”  
  
And Ra's, he smiles, like this is the most entertaining thing he's seen for a while. “Indeed, Detective.”  
  
One of the ninja goes to stand next to Tim. “He will take you to my dear guest.”  
  
 “Ra's - “  
  
But Ra's is already gone, and Tim has more important matters to deal with. Tim gets more and more worried when he realizes where the ninja's taking him because of course he has the layout memorized.  When they get to where Dick is being held he's not expecting to see Pru, but he probably should have.  
  
“Ra's brought me in to keep an eye on him,” she says, confirming Tim's suspicions.  
  
“Thanks, Pru,” Tim says, because she's the only one he would have trusted with Dick, and Ra's knows it.  
  
“How the hell do you manage to get in these situations?”  
  
“Believe it or not, this one's not my fault.”  
  
The look on her face says she doesn't believe that, but she lets him in to see Dick who is reading a magazine and looking kind of bored. Tim wonders how far along he is in his escape attempt.  
  
Dick looks up and goes completely still and Tim doesn't know how, but he looks annoyed. (He is, at Tim for being an idiot and waltzing into Ra's' stronghold even though they both know Dick would have done the same in his place.)

“Hey, Tim.” Dick say, looking him over. “You wouldn't believe the week I've been having.”  
  
Tim rolls his eyes and ignores Pru's smirk because it's Dick. “Really? Why don't you tell me about it on the way back to Gotham.”  
  
Dick's eyes narrow a little at that, the slight hesitation before Tim said Gotham, not home, _Gotham_. “Sure,” he says, looking at Pru.  
  
Pru smirks and does a little sweeping bow. “You're free to go.” A look at Tim. “You'll be too busy with other things to interfere here.”  
  
Tim's put a lot of work into tracking this stronghold down, and now he'll have to start over, no doubt that by the time whatever this is with Dick is taken care of, it'll be gone. No trace.  
  
Dick walks over and hands her a makeshift lock pick and other important things for a successful escape attempt that he's cobbled up, and she just _looks_ at him.  
  
“You've been reading magazines the whole time I've been here.”  
  
Tim and Dick share a look because they're Bats, it's what they _do_.  
  
Pru shakes her head and walks out muttering to herself.  
  
Tim looks back at Dick who is staring at him. “What?”  
  
“We're going to have a long talk when we get home.”  
  
Tim nods, “Why don't we get out of here first?”  
  
********  
  
So they head back to Gotham, Kon insisting on escorting them the whole way even though Tim insists everything's fine now.  
  
“No offense, Tim? But I'll believe that when you're back in your own body.”  
  
And when they get back to the Batcave Bruce is waiting for them, but Dick is starting to flag, dealing with Tim's injuries and lack of sleep.  
  
Tim sends Dick up to sleep and then explains to Bruce who is frowny face and very not happy – especially when Tim tells him why he needed the Batplane.  
  
Dick, meanwhile, runs into Damian, but before he can say anything Damian is his usual charming self, and says he's not surprised Grayson had to go rescue him and on and on.  
  
Dick just stands there shocked because he knew Damian and Tim didn't get along, but he had no idea it was _this_ bad - why didn’t Tim say anything?  
  
“Damian, shouldn't you be asleep?”  
  
And that's Dick's voice, his cadence, everything. Not a surprise Tim can copy it so well.  
  
Damian's mouth snaps shut and he glares at Dick like it's his fault he's getting in trouble. “I am not done with you, Drake,” and strides off.  
  
Behind him Tim sighs, placing a hand on his back and getting him moving again with a gentle nudge. “You need to sleep,” he says.  
  
Dick looks back at him. “Why didn't you tell me about this,” he asks, gesturing towards Damian's room. “About the way Damian treats you?”  
  
Tim just looks at him for a long moment, and Dick didn't even know his face could look like that, so tired, so _something_. “I did,” Tim says, corner of his mouth tugging up into a weary smile. “You just didn't listen.”  
  
“Tim - “  
  
“I'm older,” Tim says, sounding tired when he should be angry. “I should know better. Damian's just a kid.”  
  
And it's like a hit, each one stronger than the last. Not because of the words, but the way Tim _sounds_.  
  
“Tim - “  
  
“Good night, Dick,” Tim says when they reach Dick's room, already headed towards his own.  
  
Dick stares after him and wonders how he could have missed something like this, messed things up between them so much.  
  
********  
  
The next day Dick feels pretty much terrible – those ribs _are_ broken and while Ra's' people did what they could, broken ribs are the worst.  
  
Damian glares at him and Bruce has this faintly amused look on his face that’s at odds with the worry and Tim -  
  
“He's down in the cave,” Bruce says, because of course he is.  
  
Dick starts to head down there but Damian tries to cut him off. “Not now, Damian,” Dick says.  
  
Damian freezes. Eyes narrowing. “You are not Drake.”  
  
Dick shoots a look at Bruce who is oh, so amused. “You couldn't tell him?”  
  
“I thought it best he heard from you.”  
  
Because Bruce is a bastard.  
  
Damian's looking between Bruce and Dick, and it would be hilarious any other time, but. “Hey, Little D.”  
  
Damian's eyes go wide, and he resembles nothing so much as a startled cat, fur fluffed and claws out and the way he hisses Tim's name,“ _Drake_.”  
  
“Actually,” Tim says, coming up behind him with a smirk on his face. “This one's all on Dick.”  
  
“Well at least I wasn't the one baiting Ra's al Ghul, Tim,” Dick shoots back, and ow, his ribs. “What is going on with you two anyway?”  
  
This of course, catches Bruce's attention, and Damian actually bares his teeth and Tim.  
  
Tim just sighs. “It's nothing to worry about.”  
  
Dick realizes that's exactly the face he makes when he's lying. Bruce can tell too, he knows, because it's Bruce and he knows all about Dick's terrible lying face.  
  
“Nothing to worry about, like the fact you don't have a spleen?”  
  
And oh, yes, Dick knows all about that now. Ra's and his people had been most forthcoming when the doctor who was checking him over mentioned it, and Dick had had so many questions about that little tidbit.  
  
“What is this about your spleen?” Bruce asks, and Tim.  
  
Tim looks resigned. He walks into the room, past Damian who skitters away from him, like he's got the plague.  
  
“It was while you were lost in time,” he says to Bruce, accepting a cup of coffee from Alfred. “An assassin from The Council of Spiders.”  
  
Now _everyone_ in the room is staring at Tim.  
  
Tim places a hand on his – Dick's body – where the scar would be on his own. Dick remembers seeing it when Tim had come back to Gotham and that debacle with Ra's, but he hadn't known. Had been meaning to ask after seeing the scar again this morning while getting dressed and realized he's never asked about it.  
  
“I was a little preoccupied at the time,” Tim says, eyes flicking to Bruce with a small smile. It's not. It looks like it hurts, and that's just so _wrong_ , but Tim keeps talking. “He caught us by surprise.”  
  
“Us?” Bruce prompts, deceptively calm.  
  
“Pru's team, me,” Tim says, looking down into his coffee. “Pru and I were the only ones who made it.”  
  
There's more to it, Dick knows, but Tim shakes his head and looks back up at them, like nothing happened. “Anything else?”  
  
Oh, where to begin, Dick wonders, because Tim never really told anyone about what he did, what happened to him when he left to find Bruce. He gave them the broad strokes, Europe and Ra's and Ra's trying to destroy everything Bruce built, but not the details like an assassin, and his missing spleen, and what else isn't he telling them?  
  
“Tim, I'd like to speak to you.” Bruce looks at Dick and Damian. Alfred. “Alone.”  
  
Alfred raises an eyebrow at Dick when he's about to protest, so Dick gets up and herds Damian out of the room, Alfred behind them.  
  
“Grayson!”  
  
Dick can't help but notice the way Damian moves away before Dick touches him. The way he keeps darting looks at him when they go down the Batcave to continue the search for the magic user Tim started. Wonders if it's because Dick's in Tim's body and Damian's having a little trouble adjusting to that, or if it's because Dick knows how Damian treats him when Dick and the others aren't there now.  
  
“We need to have a little talk ourselves, Damian,” Dick says.  
  
********  
  
Tim ends up telling Bruce most of what happened while he was looking for him. He leaves out certain parts, and Bruce can tell of course, but he doesn't push Tim on it (for now).  
  
Tim gets another Bathug and is like, unable to compute why he's getting one now, which means he gets another Bathug because Bruce doesn't know what else to do, and he's taking a page from Dick's book, and Tim is just so very confused.  
  
Tim goes down into the cave and Damian walks up to him and in a grudging tone of voice _apologizes_ to Tim.  
  
“Not that I don't appreciate it, but why?” Tim asks.  
  
Damian looks at Dick who is pretending to be wholly engrossed in what's on the computer screen. “Grayson made it clear to me that I have been less than....gracious in my dealing with you.”  
  
Tim bites his lip, wondering just how much it hurt for Damian to say that. “I accept your apology,” he says, because he _is_ older, and he _should_ know better. It's not Damian's fault he knows exactly what buttons to push when it comes to him.  
  
Damian grumbles and makes as if to flee, but Dick calls out, “Damian, aren't you forgetting something?”  
  
“Grayson!”  
  
“Damian.”  
  
Damian snorts, splitting a glare between Dick and Tim, and then throws himself at Tim, arms squeezing a little too tight. “I am sorry to have treated you so badly, Drake,” he says again, and releases Tim before running out of the cave.  
  
Tim just stands there, shocked, for a moment, and then turns to look at Dick. Who is looking back, this pleased look on his face.  
  
“I have that on video.”  
  
Of course he does. “Dick - “  
  
“I'm sorry I didn't listen to you.”  
  
“It wasn't important,” Tim says, trying to get past this, get to work to find the magic user and get them in their right bodies.  
  
Dick makes this pained noise, but when Tim looks at him he just asks, “Is that the reason why you haven't been at the manor as much? In Gotham?”  
  
Tim just looks at Dick, because. Yes. No. There were other things, other reasons. “No,” is what he settles on.  
  
Dick gets this pinched look on his face like he knows Tim's lying but isn't sure how to get him to tell the truth.  
  
“What did you do to her to make her do this?” Tim asks, waving a hand between them.  
  
And Dick. He rubs the back of his neck, sheepish. “I. There may have been flirting involved.”  
  
Of course there was flirting involved, of course. “Dick - “  
  
“I didn't expect her to do this!”  
  
Well who would, is the thing.  
  
********  
  
They work on identifying the magic user and figuring out where they can find her, but it takes a few days. A few days in which Bruce surprises Tim with an occasional Bathug which not only unnerves Tim, but Damian who is frequently a witness to this. And then Damian gets a hug, Dick drawing everyone into it because hugs! \o/

(Bruce always looks uncertain, like he's not sure he's doing it right, but Dick gives him a thumbs up and bounces on his heels because _finally_ , Bruce, until his ribs protest because _ow_.)  
  
Tim has to keep Dick's body in shape and he's trying very hard not to be amazed at just how flexible it really is. Just. How is that even possible?  
  
Dick's just kind of smug about it and waggles his eyebrows at that and - “Oh my God, Dick. Don't ever do that again. I didn't even know my face could do that. Stop. Please stop.”  
  
Dick secretly maps out Tim's scars so he'll know when he gets new ones, although he doesn't know how he's going to get Tim shirtless, or pantless for that matter, but he's sure he'll figure something out. He's also not pleased about the fact that he can see Tim's ribs, and enlists Alfred's help in fixing that.  
  
Tim just makes this face when he realizes, and Dick raises his eyebrow daring Tim to call him out on it, but of course he can't because there's Alfred and his gently reproving look. And Bruce and his not so gently reproving look. And Damian and his lip curl of disgust at Tim for not maintaining his body at its peak performance, and -  
  
“You don't even go here,” Tim says to Kon.  
  
“Ma made pie for you.”  
  
Damian avoids being in whatever room Tim's in as best as he can, but when Dick finds out he puts a stop to that.  
  
“Movie night!”  
  
“Grayson - “  
  
“Dick - “  
  
“My ribs are killing me, and we've hit a dead end on the search for our mystery magic lady. Movie night.”  
  
Tim and Damian look as one to Bruce. Bruce fights down a smile and says, “Stephanie and the others will have Gotham well in hand tonight.”  
  
“Bruce - “  
  
“Movie night!” Dick crows, careful about his ribs.  
  
So there's movie night, and Jason decides to check in because - “Babs said this was hilarious but I had no idea it was going to be this good.”  
  
“Shut up, Jason.”  
  
********  
  
As time goes by Tim is slowly, slowly starting to think maybe things will get better. Dick and Bruce are trying, and Alfred is certainly on board. Damian's being more civil to him, which. Tim wasn't expecting a lot from that quarter, but its nice.  
  
Dick and Tim end up having that long talk Dick mentioned when Tim "rescued" him, and it ends in hugs and Tim trying to get free without hurting Dick.  
  
“No, Tim,” Dick says tugging at Tim's arm. “Sleep time.”  
  
It's still weird being in Dick's body, re-learning how to fight in it, how it moves, what it's capable of. Dick can't really do much with his injuries, but he's there with Tim when he trains, talking him through moves Tim's never been able to do before.  
  
There are more movie nights, and Bruce lets Tim go on patrol with him, Dick in the Batcave, a friendly voice in Tim's ear. Dick insisting on cuddles after they get back.

“Everyone needs cuddles, Tim,” he says. “I've been cooped up here all night while you guys got to go out and fight crime.” And then he pouts, and Tim cuddles him out of desperation because he didn't know his face could do that, Dick, God, _stop_.  
  
Eventually they track down the magic user who takes one look at the Dick and Tim and _laughs_.  
  
“Er.”  
  
She undoes the spell and then vanishes and -  
  
“Were we supposed to catch her?” Tim asks, dazed because it's been weeks, and now he's back in his body and he was not expecting it to feel this strange.  
  
“Bruce and Damian will get her,” Dick says, coming to sit next to Tim. “Man, this is weird.”  
  
“But good, right?” Tim asks, pulling off one of his gloves to look at his hand.  
  
Dick bumps Tim's shoulder with his. “Very good.”  
  
They just sort of sit there for a while, acknowledging Bruce when he contacts them to let them know he has the magic user and make sure the spell has been reversed.  
  
“So,” Tim says, already thinking of how best to get the hell out of town. It's been great having the others treat him better, but it can't last. And he's worried Dick might have -  
  
“Tim,” Dick says.  
  
“Dick - “  
  
Dick reaches out and wraps his fingers around Tim's bare wrist, thumb resting on his pulse. “You know I'm an idiot, right?” Because he is, to have missed all of this. To let things get so bad Tim actually _left_ , and he didn't realize.  
  
Tim tugs, and Dick tightens his hold just the tiniest bit. He's not going to let Tim run off, run away again if he can help it.  
  
“We're trying, Tim. _I'm_ trying.”  
  
Tim knows that, he does. Some harder than others, but Damian's Damian, and the fact that he bothers at all means more than he thinks.  
  
“I know.”  
  
“So why are you trying to leave?” Dick doesn't mean to sound so plaintive, but he just. He doesn't know what to do to make Tim stay. Make him want to stay.  
  
“Dick,” Tim sighs, tugs again and this time Dick lets him go. Tim flexes his hand. How to explain it's easier this way? That at least this way he isn't faced with the things he can't have day in and day out?  
  
“I have to go,” Tim says, and _leaves_.  
  
********  
  
A few months later Tim is trying to blow up Ra's' new stronghold, surrounded by ninja and -  
  
And then Dick happens.  
  
“Sorry I'm late!”  
  
“What are you doing here?” Tim asks, because it's great having someone he trusts at his back with all the ninja, but he didn't tell anyone where he was going.  
  
“A little assassin told me.”  
  
Tim frowns, and looks at Dick – and catches a glimpse of Pru, who blows him a kiss before disappearing with the files Tim was after.  
  
He hears Dick laugh because he saw her too and just. “I hate you both,” Tim says, focusing on the ninja and not the sound of Dick's laugh because that would be dumb.  
  
Later, when they're back in Tim's hotel room and the ninja are no long chasing them - “I think he does it because they need the training,” Tim says, when Dick looks at him.  
  
“I don't think I'll ever get used to that,” Dick says, meaning the relationship Tim has with Ra's, which.  
  
Fair point, there are days Tim doesn't understand it either.  
  
“I made a mistake,” Dick says, sitting down on the bed.  
  
Tim's is cowl is down and he's examining a tear in his suit, so he's only half paying attention. “What kind of mistake?”  
  
Dick doesn't answer for long enough that Tim looks up.  
  
“I let you leave,” Dick says, and he gives Tim this smile that's.  
  
“Dick.” Tim takes a step back, but Dick's just sitting there, watching him. Reading him, Tim knows even though Tim's not giving him much.  
  
“I let you leave, and then I didn't follow you.”  
  
Tim looks around the hotel room. “Looks like you did.”  
  
Dick makes a face. “Pru came looking for me, Tim.”  
  
What?  
  
“I know, sad, right?” Dick asks, waving a hand. “I was raised by 'The World's Greatest Detective' and I can't see what's in front of my face.”  
  
To be fair, though, Bruce has the same problem.  
  
“He does, doesn't he?” Because Dick knows him well enough to know what he must be thinking after that.  
  
Dick gets up and starts walking toward him, and this time Tim stands his ground, waiting.  
  
“Dick.” Tim's tired, and he's not up for this and _what are you doing, Dick?_  
  
What Dick's doing is hugging him and whispering apologies and a placing a light kiss on his forehead.  
  
“ _Dick_.”  
  
“I wanted to kiss you on the lips, but you'd probably hit me for that, wouldn't you.”  
  
Tim wants to him him _now_. “What are you doing?”  
  
Dick just looks at him. “What I should have done before," and this time he does kiss Tim, who doesn't hit him, even though the tension in his body says he's thinking about it.  
  
Or maybe not, because Tim kisses back, and Babs had said. Bruce had. Not said, but the look he'd given Dick had spoken volumes. Damian hadn't said so much as rolled his eyes – definitely Bruce's kid. Even Pru had said, which had been the breaking point for him. (When an assassin sees it before you do? Yeah.)  
  
“No take-backs,” Tim says, trying for a joke and failing because this is important to him and Dick knows and he's sorry and he'll try harder.  
  
“No take-backs.”  
  



End file.
